Bubble.

I can't speak for anyone else but me, but I feel that people generally have something to say only when their minds are stirred considerably. Something meaningful to say, I mean. Something lucid.

For the past many weeks I've been feeling like I'm in a bubble. NOthing is stirring my mind, conscience and soul. Nothing is affecting me enough to speak about it. The bubble scares me, for it makes me feel decisively disconnected from those around me; and yet, for this very reason, it oddly comforts me, for I feel exempted from the useless trauma that is accompanied by the useless trappings of an adolescent mind. Sometimes I feel glad that I don't have any pressing issues to deal with, or any tremendous secret to keep. Every night, my last thought before I drift off to sleep is of feeling immensely grateful and fortunate that I have a perfect, worry-free, simple and comforting life.

~

In a related topic, I thought until recently that Michael Buble's last name was Bubble. I really liked the thought that he had to be addressed as Mr.Bubble! But obviously, I was wrong.
I kinda feel like all the things he's singing about in Feeling Good. I guess that song gives the closest image to what I am right now.